


Need

by Seraphyne13



Category: Gotham (TV), Gotham (TV) RPF
Genre: Cory Michael Smith/Robin Lord Taylor - Freeform, M/M, Smaylor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-24 07:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraphyne13/pseuds/Seraphyne13
Summary: All the teasing and fan service was bound to culminate at some point. What will Robin do?





	1. Chapter 1

****The cheers and screams of the crowd were deafening as Robin made his way to the cool darkness of the back of the stage. His thoughts were all over the place. Excitement from the roar of the crowd. Enjoyment because he got to do this for a living. Slide into a character and be that person for the millions of fans around the world. Then slipping through his mind and heart at that moment was desire and confusion. Cory Michael Smith was his best friend and, Robin thought, straight or rather he’s never declared otherwise. Besides Robin was happily married, significantly happy. He loved his husband, in fact he was out there now in that crowd of adoring fans waiting for him.

But then Cory… Most of the time it was easy to explain away as exuberance, excitement, and of course the fans spur them on. It was all part of the performance even when it was real life and that’s what Robin tells himself. It’s easier to believe with Ben because he isn’t so touchy-feely, but Cory really gets into it. Cory likes to look at the fan art and the stories written about them. He likes it when the crowd cheers louder when they do something provocative or suggestive. Cory thrived on the attention. He of course didn’t like the negative attention that they received, but that didn’t stop him. So now it was hard for Robin to see the line in the sand. His emotions are tied to it now, he cares too much and it’s getting harder and harder to see the line.

He fiddles with the band around his left ring finger, secure in his feelings for his husband, the life they share, and the fact that none of the hate reaches him. They’re happy… So why does this get to him? Why should a lingering hand on his thigh under the table in which none of the fans can see… Why does that get to him? Does Cory realize what he’s doing? He shakes his head, sighing, thankful that the tightness in his pants was lessening. He had been afraid that he wouldn’t have been able to leave the stage without his problem being noticed. He continues to caress his wedding band when he feels hands at his sides. Arms snaking through his, wrapping around his chest.

Robin curses to himself because he knew it was Cory. In the dark, no fans around to see… What was the taller man playing at?! “Cory- What ar-” A sharp intake of breath as he feels the man press himself fully against his back, Robin’s problem leaping to the forefront of his mind as he feels just what the man behind him feels. It does not help at all that Cory’s height places him right against Robin’s ass. He groans audibly, thankful that the crowd was still cheering and clapping. “Co- Cory.. Why?” He has to stop because his voice shakes and it’s breathy and undignified.

“Robin…” Cory breathes the name into the shorter man’s ear. Robin shivers as Cory’s nose traces a line down the side of his neck. Robin bends his head in the opposite direction invitingly and Cory takes advantage, placing his lips in a small kiss to Robin’s throat. Robin whimpers, his fingers still playing with the band of his wedding ring. This was not fair! He groans in frustration. He was hard enough to ache and knew that he had to get rid of this problem. They would not be safe from scrutiny for long back here. The panel was over and a new one would start soon. Not to mention that the others would be looking for them. All these thoughts were swept away as Cory started rocking his hips against Robin’s ass. His mouth lightly sucking along the back of Robin’s neck.

“Wh- why now?” He whispers, but knows damn well that Cory can hear him. “Co- Cory, please…” He’s pleading for the man to answer him and to stop and to keep going. At that moment Robin doesn’t know what he really wants. Cory’s arms tighten around Robin’s chest, the wetness on his neck cold as the air hits it.

“I... I realized… I... care about you.” Cory’s words sound uncertain. “I mean- of course I care about you.. We’re…” Robin thinks that the lanky man at his back must be just as confused as he himself was. “I... can’t stop touching you. It’s like- Like a drug, you’re a drug… My drug…” How apt, Robin thinks. Considering some of the episodes that Riddler and Penguin had filmed recently. Cory’s hips haven’t stopped moving, the hardness rubbing against Robin growing harder. He groans again, but quiets because he wants to hear Cory’s words, but Cory doesn’t continue. Instead his hands slide down Robin’s chest forcing him to raise his hands and arms slightly. Fingers tickle against Robin’s stomach as they walk the hem of the shorter man’s shirt upwards, untucking it. Slipping his hands under the shirt and against his skin.

Sucking in a breath, Robin’s stomach muscles jump and dance under Cory’s fingers. The hardness in his pants jumps and dances as well with need and then the guilt comes sliding in. That icy chilling power to kill all flames and fire. Cory’s fingers are walking fires all along Robin’s skin, but the guilt was quenching the flames as fast as they were spreading. “I… I love him…” Robin manages to whisper as Cory’s fingers play along the top of his pants. A deadly dance of dare if you will because the long piano fingers don’t stop at the boundary and Robin shudders, voice louder because the guilt is about to engulf him. “I love HIM.. Cor- Cory please!” The please is a piteous whine to his own ears. A burning blush spreads along Robin’s cheeks as Cory’s breath flutters along his ear again. A cry from Robin as teeth lightly nip at his ear lobe.

“I… need… you…” Cory’s words were soft and barely there, but they lit up the whole world as it dawned on Robin that Cory has been feeling the same things he had, but Cory was not married. The guilt was winning and Robin knew that it should. A tear slides down Robin’s left cheek, his hands finding Cory’s wrists and pulling. There’s no resistance as he pulls, hands sliding free of where they should never have been. Robin is in pain. He can’t say a word as he unlaces Cory’s arms from around him. It’s torture, pure and simple, more torture then Oswald had ever experienced, he thinks, as he walks away from Cory.

 


	2. Needy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So confusing.

Robin needed a bathroom and fast. Damn Cory for doing this to him. No, he knew that was not entirely fair. It’s not like he didn’t participate in the fan service with Cory. Robin had known it would be a slippery slope to slide down, but he had hoped that the participation of all the other cast mates would have kept him more grounded. That his husband coming with him would be shield enough, but damn it emotions sucked.

He angrily wiped at the tear that had escaped and finally found a bathroom that was pretty removed from the general festivities of the Con they were attending. He avoids the mirrors as he rushes to the last, largest stall, not wanting to see the emotional wreck he had become. He was nothing but garbage for what little he had already allowed to happen. Guilt was weighing heavily in the pit of his stomach, but it did nothing to alleviate the tightness in his pants. He curses his choice of wearing skinny legged slacks. He liked the way they showed off his legs, but they also showed everything else too.

Robin is so angry with himself that he feels he doesn’t deserve the pleasure he’ll get from taking care of his erection. He’s pacing back and forth in the large stall mentally berating himself, even going so far to say things out loud. But his mind keeps going back to Cory’s hands down the front of his pants and what those long piano fingers of his can do.

“Shit! Shit! SHIT!” He exclaims as the bathroom door opens. He stops walking and goes silent immediately. He’s waiting for whoever to do their business and go, but only sounds of breathing breaks the silence and it’s Robin’s own breath he hears. His ears strain to hear other sounds and finally there are footsteps. Too many steps for them to stop at the urinal and Robin swears mentally. Can’t people take their shits at their own home? The footsteps stop but no door squeak or latching clasp. He looks at the door of his own stall and notices the shoes right outside the stall door, they’re Cory’s shoes. Robin hates himself for the way his heart jumps. He had hoped, against all odds, that his husband would have found him instead.

The door to his stall moves a little and the feet shuffle. There’s a long sigh from Cory and then he clears his throat. “Robin…” There’s a pause as the shorter man debates what to do. He cowardly thinks he can remain silent and Cory will eventually go away, but that was a shitty way to treat your best friend. “I- I feel like I should call you Oswald…” Long pause and then Cory clears his throat again. “Th- That would make all- this… this seem less real…” Suddenly there’s a loud crash as the stall door slams within the confines of it’s locks. Robin makes a small noise, he couldn’t help it, he suspected that Cory had rammed his head against the door. There’s another crash and then another. Tears bead at the corner of Robin’s eyes. He walks over to the door, hands on the cold metal.

“Please stop doing that.” He whispers knowing Cory can hear him.

“I don’t know what to do…” Cory’s voice is thick and low, almost as if he’s holding back tears. “With Oswald and Ed it’s simple… It’s fake… There are boundaries that keep you… Sane…” Cory trails off. Robin’s own forehead is against the cold metal of the stall door now. Hands resting beside his head as if he could touch Cory through it.

“I’m sorry.” The words are tiny and so very insufficient. He was hurting his best friend and he didn’t know how to stop it. How had this gotten so out of hand? He feels like had he not had fun, not participated, and acted so into the charade that Cory wouldn’t be so… Confused.

“NO!” The outburst scares Robin because it’s so loud and close, he takes a step back from the door. “No! Don’t you dare!” Cory’s voice breaks, but Robin can hear the anger in it too.

“I am-” Robin yells back at him, but he’s cut off.

“No, no, no…” Cory’s voice dips down very low. Robin has a hard time hearing him. “I won’t let you cheapen this by pretending it’s only one sided!” There’s panic in his voice now. “Oh god… It is! I’m delusional. I’ve made it all up in my head.” The surety of his words pulls at Robin’s heart strings. He cannot let Cory think he’s gone crazy.

“You are straight Cory. You love women. They’re bodies, they’re minds, everything about them. I-” Robin’s voice threatens to leave him. Clearing his throat, he continues. “I’m your best friend. Th- That’s all.” There’s a long silence, no movements or words, only their breathing.

“Then why are you hiding from me behind this door?” The words are like a pin drop in a completely silent room. Robin is shaking. His breath hitches and a mix between a wail and a sob escapes from between his lips. This was not fair! Life was not fair and that should be his answer. _BECAUSE LIFE IS NOT FUCKING FAIR!!_ He screams it in his head, tears marring his cheeks with their salty betrayal. His fingers frantically locate his wedding band on his left ring finger and twists it to ground himself, but Cory’s words keep echoing through his thoughts. His left hand betrays him. He watches in shocked horror as his hand catches the clasp and pulls, the wedding band glinting in the light as a reminder, deterrent and yet he does not stop.

The door swings open to find a tear-stained face that’s full of longing and need belonging to his best friend. Robin looks down, ashamed that he had sealed his own fate. Cory’s hand appears before him, tracing a line through the air towards Robin’s cheek, but the green eyed man steps back further into the stall avoiding the contact. There’s a war within him raging, his heart and head are not in agreement and it’s ripping him up inside. He’s trying his best to keep things platonic. He does not want to hurt his best friend anymore. Cory’s hand drops, Robin sees that, but he still refuses to look into the taller man’s eyes. Windows to the soul and… They never lie.

“I don’t know what I am…” Cory says taking a step into the stall, closer to Robin. “You are completely right about the me from two years ago or maybe longer than that… How long have we known each other now?”

“It’s not been ten years…” Robin says spitefully because that’s how long he’s loved his husband. How long they’ve shared their lives. Laughter, love, and friendship. But the dig was cheap and at himself more so than Cory. His pale green eyes still refused to meet Cory’s dark blue ones. The war raging within him was wearing him down. Who would win? Heart or head?

“Either way,” Cory says ignoring the dig. “you’ve changed me… So I am not the man I knew and was anymore. I don’t know what I am.”

“You are not gay!” Robin snaps, trying to keep his thoughts straight, logic intact. Trying to win the inner battle and to convince Cory that fiction had bled over into reality and that it needed to stop. “Nygma isn’t even gay. His love for Oswald is platonic, best friends, maybe even-” His voice cuts out, doesn’t even have the courtesy of a cough or hiccup, just leaves and refuses to say the lie. “…even brothers…” _LIE, LIE, LIES!!_ His heart screams at him. Cory makes such a disgusted noise in the back of his throat that Robin has to look up to see the expression that went with it. He was not disappointed.

“That’s an ugly lie! How could you-”

“It’s FAKE, Cory! They’re characters! What does it matter?!”

“It matters because you are NOT fake! You are the only real thing in my life!!” Cory’s voice is loud and echoes within the small confines of the bathroom and it scares Robin once again, flinching away. Cory makes an exasperated wail and barely keeps from screaming it seems. The tall, lanky man takes another step into the bathroom stall and hits the door closed, turning he slides the clasp into place, locking the door. All too late does Robin realizes that he’s now trapped in the bathroom stall with Cory.

“How the fuck did this happen?” Robin asks in wonder as Cory takes a step closer to the shorter man. Disbelief and confusion chases away the other warring emotions within Robin’s chest as his left hand raises between the two men, fingers splayed in a stop gesture. Robin’s wedding band glinting in the florescent light for both men to clearly see. “Please… Cory, stop.” He’s pleading, the last defense he has.

“No.” The small simple word tells Robin so much more than every single word the taller man has said thus far. Robin’s facade crumbles as Cory steps into his hand. The band on his finger bright against the black shirt Cory is wearing. The blue-eyed man leans into Robin’s hand, green eyes still on his ring. He can either resist Corey’s weight and push back or let the man do what he wanted to. Finally, Robin’s eyes raise to meet Cory’s, lost and afraid.

“I don’t know what to do.” Robin whispers, his lips parted for more words, but not knowing what to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Be Continued...


	3. Want

-Three Months Later-

“That’s a wrap on Gotham, season three finale!” The words echo through Robin’s mind as he contemplates the next two months free, that he’s free to do what he wants. _Maybe a vacation?_ But of course thoughts of Cory comes dancing across all other thoughts and he pushes them aside. Work had been trying these last few months. The shorter man wasn’t purposefully avoiding the taller man, but it was painful to see him. Plus he was pretty sure their friendship had reached a point of no return.

Edward and Oswald have talked because its part of the job, but outside of fake Gotham? Not a peep. Robin misses Cory, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that to himself. His husband can tell something is wrong, but either he doesn’t want to know or he suspects and doesn’t want to hear it out loud because he hasn’t brought it up. So Robin feels guilty because of both men in his life. The smaller man had been thankful for all the distractions lately. Show appearances, separate cons, interviews, and even the finale of Gotham was on location far from New York. Hotel-ing with Sean and Ben, who are hilarious, has been fun. But the guilt was an ever present shadow that hung over Robin wherever he went and whatever he did. The worse part was that Cory had been right. It wasn’t one-sided, but there was no way in hell he could say that out loud.

Robin was at fault just as much as the other man. He would not call it love, but there wasn’t an adequate word to describe it. The nail in the coffin, so to speak, about all this was the fact that his feelings towards his husband had not changed. That was the confusing part for the green eyed man. How could he feel... So much for Cory and yet it did not change his love for his husband? Was he just that selfish? What did he want? _I don’t want this situation at all..._ He thinks, hands tightening on the Penguin cane that was part of Oswald’s wardrobe for the day. His mantra for the last three months had been: _How did this get so fucking out of hand?_ And the sad part is that he never even saw the exact moment in which his mind transitioned Cory from best friend to something more... Potentially something more.

The vibrations from his cell phone brings him back to the here and now, but before pulling it out of his pocket he hands James the Prop Guy the cane and Oswald’s top hat for storage. He smiles and says farewell before heading off to his dressing room. His eye makeup is tacky, his eyelashes sticking together and he can’t wait to wash it away. Finally he pulls his phone free to see that it was a Twitter notification. His hiatus from the crazy social media site had been the best decision he’d made, maybe the only good one he’d made lately. The constant hate just ate away at him, helped with his role of Oswald, not so much for his real life. He was ready to ignore the message when he notices that it’s a direct message from Cory.

Frowning, he types in his passcode to unlock the phone so he could fully read the message. His phone number hasn’t changed so why hadn’t the taller man just called or texted him? _Does Cory think I changed my number?_ He wonders, opening the Twitter App for the first time in what was like five months. Robin is bombarded with hundreds, maybe even thousands of notifications that he had missed from fans, cast mates, and haters. Yes, all the hate was still there and he knew it would never go away. So was the life of free speech. Thankfully only a handful of cast mates and real life friends had access to his direct messages and the newest one from Cory was the only one there.

_I miss you. Can I see you before we leave?_

The cast was set to travel back to New York tomorrow at five in the morning, so Cory meant tonight, but where? When? They weren’t at the same hotel and Robin hadn’t bothered to figure out which hotel the taller man had been sent to. Yet another reason for the guilt to come slithering in. Robin closed the Twitter App ignoring all the other notifications and messages and opened his text messages. He didn’t think he’d be able to actually talk to Cory so a text was best.

_When? Where?_

Short, sweet, and to the point. Well there’s nothing sweet about it. On second thought he also types:

_I miss you too._

Then presses send. Instantly he regrets adding the last part. Maybe Cory won’t read it as a sign of hope. Still in his text messages he find’s his husband’s name and quickly types:

_Finale wrapped. Be on my way home tomorrow, 5am. I love you._

He hits send without another thought. He didn’t want to promise he would call later in case... _In case what?_ He groans, angry at himself for the seconds of imagining what Cory could want. _I know what Cory wants..._ Reaching his dressing room he quickly changes out of the Oswald costume and fishes for a makeup remover wipe. Doesn’t matter how careful he is, the cleaner on the wipe always ends up in his eyes burning them. Wiping the last of the eyeliner away, the foundation wiped free leaving his abundance of freckles, he’s looking more and more like Robin and less like Oswald. Sliding out of the character and revealing himself. Suddenly his text tone sounds, having switched his phone off of mute. He picks up his phone to check the message.

_Love you too. See you soon!_

He smiles imagining his reunion with the love of his life, but another text pops up with the tone sounding.

_Italian place down the road from your hotel. 10_

Fuck! That slithering, soul-sapping, ugly monster named guilt squeezes at Robin’s heart. Cory knew what hotel the married man was at, but he hadn’t cared enough to figure out Cory’s. He types quickly:

_See you then_

The cab ride with Ben, Sean, and Camren over to their hotel was fun. Took Robin’s mind off of Cory and the impending meet up. The guys using bean-pole Camren as a _hot potato_ , tossing her from one lap to another. Laughter and squeaks as Camren instagrams the entire ride in short videos. Exiting the cab, the three of them ask Robin if he wants to join them for dinner, but he excuses himself and blames packing. It was truth, he was a nightmare on his own. Disorder and chaos rules his room and it wouldn’t all fit back in his luggage if he doesn’t start packing now.

By the time nine-thirty rolls around, most of his things and souvenirs are packed neatly away. He takes a quick shower to wash away the last bits of his Oswald persona, namely his hairstyle. Leaving his hair wet, he combs it back; he dresses sensibly. Jeans, shirt, button up over, but left open. Nothing fancy. Nothing that would make anyone assume anything. Innocuous and innocent, he thinks looking in the mirror. Leaving his hotel room he passes Ben in the hallway.

“You get all packed up?” The blonde man asks, smiling.

“Almost,” Robin answers. “I should have taken you guys up on your offer of food earlier, I’m starving now.” He chuckles and turns, heading towards the elevators.

“I hope you guys work it out.” Ben calls behind him. Robin freezes, but doesn’t turn around.

“What?” He calls, glancing back.

“Cory’s been a mess... We can tell you aren’t.. you either, but I guess you can hide it better?” Ben ducks his head in embarrassment, hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it. “I don’t know, but... Well, we all care about you two.” The words soften Robin’s posture and he’s not as on guard. It doesn’t sound like Ben knows what’s going on, just that something isn’t right.

“How did you know I was going to see Cory?” Robin asks, turning to face his friend, fully. The blonde smirks a very Jim Gordon smirk.

“That’s the shirt you always wear when you’re around Cory.” Eyes wide, Robin looks down. Innocuous and innocent. Black polo with a white collar. _Innocuous!_ But he knows Ben is right. Cory loves this shirt on him, he’d even said as much at the con. _THE CON..._

“But, but it’s just one of my favorite shirts... I always bring it with me.” It was innocent! No other thoughts about the shirt had ever crossed his mind especially none to do with Cory.. But it was the same shirt Cory had pulled free from his pants backstage... Shaking his head, Robin turns and very nearly runs to the elevators. _How had he NEVER noticed the association?_

Walking down the street towards the restaurant, he takes the time to google himself and Cory. He ignores the ludicrous amounts of fanart, both in awe and respectful of the talent and time taken to do it. There are a few pictures of them where Robin is wearing other shirts but the majority... This shirt. He swears now wishing he’d taken the time to go and change, which is ridiculous because it’s his favorite shirt! _And not because Cory likes it!_ Shaking his head he puts his phone away as he enters the restaurant.

“Name?” The hostess asks looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, uh..” Thinking fast, “Cory Michael Smith?” He asks, not sure. He hadn’t expected the place to be so fancy, especially not at ten in the evening.

“I’m sorry, that name isn’t on the list.” She looks up at him, waiting.

“We- well, what are the names you have?” She looks back down at her ledger.

“Matthews, King, Jones, Smith- just not the name you gave me, Quick, and Taylor.” Robin shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Robin Lord Taylor.” He states. She smiles.

“Fantastic, follow me.” The interior of the restaurant is dim, lighting almost nonexistent. The booths dark and the tables only lit enough so the staff can walk without tripping and falling. Not many patrons at all in the place considering its ten at night on a Tuesday. Robin didn’t know what he was expecting when he saw Cory, but the tall man looked good. Attire along the same lines as his own; jeans and shirt paired with the black leather jacket that is Cory’s favorite. Robin smiles apprehensively as their eyes meet. Cory smiles and it lights up his eyes. He watches Cory stand up as they near the table. On the table, Robin notes a bottle of wine that is half gone already. He wonders how long Cory has been here.

“Enjoy your evening.” The hostess says as she walks off. They are left standing awkwardly. Robin is at a loss as to what to do.

“Th- thank you for coming.” Cory says, finally breaking the silence.

“Of course.” Robin replies. Cory gestures at the empty chair across the table from himself. Robin nods and sits down. Fingers lace together on the tabletop nervously before he unclasps them and puts his hands in his lap. This was weird and he hated it.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

They both speak at the same time, the words nearly identical. Green eyes meet brown as they look across the table at each other.

.:~:.

_Cory’s lips are soft and the kiss is slow and exploratory instead of heated and urgent. It throws Robin’s expectations out the window and makes his erection throb with need. The guilt, always there now, slams against his ribs with every beat of his heart. His hands fisted in Cory’s shirt, knowing that if he let go then they’d explore and find a part of Cory that his hands should never touch. The taller man’s hands are tangled in his hair, nails lightly scraping and sending chills down his neck and spine. The heat laces through his cheeks as Cory’s lower body slides fully against Robin’s. When had the decision been made to allow the contact? Where was that split moment of consent to Cory’s advances?_

You want this too. _The thought rocked through Robin’s mind and he groans into the other man’s mouth, tongues dancing in a slow, sensual tango. He can feel the flutter of Cory’s heart against his fists which keeps their chests apart, but nothing else._ Just let go and take what you want. So easy, so simple. You **want** this as much as he does... _But does he? Truly? His husband’s face flashes through his mind, but the breath that Cory sucks in, their lips still touching just parted enough to breath for a second, makes Robin shiver and moan. A torturous sound that identifies his need and longing and also his betrayal and guilt of such. Tears sting his eyes which has nothing to do with the heat and passion he feels for this man before him._

_His body shudders at the press of Cory’s erection against his own, even through the clothing. All senses on hyperalert, but the guilt is killing him. He’s sobbing and moaning, the kiss resuming because his body is so needy, so longing for this touch. Not a touch, but Cory’s touch. His hands release the taller man’s shirt and are under it in seconds, fire dancing along his fingertips at the touch of skin. This allows more contact between their bodies and Cory’s hips slide up and down along Robin’s. The need is intense and overwhelming and good and wrong and all things. All encompassing. He’s drugged and he needs help. The tears flowing down his cheeks are not enough of a deterrent to make things stop._

You don’t want to stop. _Truth, horrid truth. Robin feels the band of his wedding ring scrape against something, Cory’s nipple. It’s a physical reminder one that is more powerful than the tears and the war inside of himself. An object of love and understanding between two people and it’s touching another man. This is the moment. Here is the decision. His mind is clear. He feels it all and it kills him. He pulls away from Cory’s kiss roughly, too fast, too hard and the back of his head smacks into the tile of the bathroom wall. Pain blossoms and it matches the pain of his guilt coursing through his heart. He cries out, tears freely flowing now, eyes closed. He pulls his head forward and knocks it against the tile again welcoming the pain because he deserves it._

_“Stop it! Robin! Stop!” Cory’s words are frantic and painful to hear, but had the taller man not pulled him away from the wall, he would have done it again. The pain keeps the desires at bay, it keeps his mind clear and he can’t lapse again. He opens his green tear-filled eyes, desperation clearly engraved on his features and stares at his best friend._ Look at this! Look at what you have broken!! _He screams inside his mind at Cory, never ever willing to utter them out loud. It’s painful enough that he’s hurt Cory this much. He pushes Cory away. Forcefully, but not too hard. Enough to make it clear that this was_ NO _because he could not trust his voice._

.:~:.

He remembers walking out of the bathroom and leaving Cory there... The memory was there and gone in two seconds and it had brought back everything. Robin hadn’t known that he had purposefully pushed it away and refused to revisit it. Just like seeing Cory, it was too painful. Tears threatened him even now. He looked down. “Why did you want to see me? Why before we left? We both live in New York.”

**Author's Note:**

> To Be Continued


End file.
